


There Is No Future Without You

by phoenix089



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Also - Shaw is a dick, And Charles?, Awkward Erik is adorable, Can you tell that I'm having fun with the tagging system?, Charles is an unrepentant dick. Which somehow makes him endearing, Charles really ought to learn what mental boundaries are, Emotionally Crippled Erik Is Fun To Read, Erik doesn't share his toys. Neither does he share his Charles, Erik is a potty mouth. Really. He cusses ... Alot., Everyone else he just tolerates, I can add more if you'd like, Its so fluffy it puts the fluffiest cloud you've seen to shame, Kid Fic, M/M, Most of the time, No actual porn in this fic though unfortunately, Not that Erik particularly cares, So that he doesn't upset Charles, That turns into a College AU, The only person Erik actually likes is Charles, There's enough fluff you could stuff your pillow with it though, UST like woah, Warnings for eventual implied sexual situations, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix089/pseuds/phoenix089
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik were friends when they were children - Until certain circumstances tore them apart. Many years later, when Erik moves to England so that he can study at Oxford University, he certainly doesn't expect to run into his childhood friend again. In fact, he doesn't expect any of the events that follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Whoever said being a kid was easy?

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a story I'm moving from FF.net to here, so there's a chance some of you will have read this before. For those of you who haven't though ... I hope you'll enjoy. It was an absolute pleasure to write ♥
> 
> Also, this story was heavily inspired by [This here](http://ile-o.deviantart.com/art/possessive-264776115), which was the first thing my Waifu drew for me back when we first started talking. ♥♥♥

At the age of five, the course of Erik Lensherr's life changed drastically – And not only because his mother had come to the conclusion that they should move to America. Although that _was_ a large part of what brought about the change, it was not the majoring factor that decided Erik's future.

When Erik first moved to New York, he absolutely _loathed_ it – The other kids at school avoided him because of his accent, and the fact that he could only speak broken English didn't help. Not that Erik cared about that because he just found the other children annoying, it simply frustrated him that he could hardly understand the teacher. The sole comfort to him then, was that he felt … Stronger, somehow, here in New York. It wasn't until Erik turned seven that he realised the reason for this was because of his mutation.

Later in life, if he was asked when his mutation first revealed itself, Erik would say that he couldn't remember. Which was a complete and utter lie – He remembered it well. He could recall with uncanny accuracy the way he felt as he stopped the pen that had been thrown at him in midair, before turning it over and hurling it back at that annoying Jessie guy, all with instinctual twitches of his fingers. And he could just as easily recall the mix of horrified and startled expressions on his classmates faces as they realised what he'd done. Erik could even remember sighing as he realised it was just another thing his schoolmates would avoid him for, a sigh that had turned into a groan as he considered what his mother's reaction was going to be.

Erik certainly hadn't expected she'd simply smile fondly at him, ruffle his hair and tell him that she knew he was special before returning to the dishes. He also hadn't expected to be pulled out of regular classes and placed into a class for "gifted individuals", which was simply the politically-correct way of saying "The class for those mutants we don't want mixing with the other children".

He could never have known then that moving into that classroom would be what set the path at his feet. Or, rather, would bring him to meeting the person who would play a major role in shaping his future.

~X~

When Erik came to stand in front of the door of his new classroom, he could positively feel his heart beating in his chest as if he were the new, foreign boy all over again, and the only thing offering him some scrap of calm was the coin he had buried in his pocket.

He took a moment to stuff his hand in his pocket and clasp the coin tightly – To some, it might have seemed strange, to be taking comfort in an unfeeling metal. But, as Erik found out just yesterday, perhaps it was the fact that it _was_ metal that it calmed him.

Scowling at the door before him, Erik made no move to open it. He knew what they called this class through the rest of the school – The Freak room. And while that in itself didn't bother him, he was sure that inside this room would be the same annoying class mates as before, the same kind of people who would look at him as if he were a mouse or cockroach or something equally unpleasant, all because he still had a slight accent despite having lived in America for two years. It was irritating, the way they all stared and whispered behind their hands when they noticed him, as if they thought he couldn't understand what they were saying.

For half a second, Erik considered simply walking back out the school and demanding to return to Germany. Just as his feet began to shift so that he could turn and walk away however, the door was pulled open and Erik was met by a girl, her mouth pulled into an uncertain frown as she looked up at him, a strange defiance in her stance despite the fact that she was clearly a few years younger than Erik.

And then Erik blinked with surprise as her skin suddenly shimmered before turning blue, and the blonde hair shifted to red. "What do _you_ want?" she asked him, her yellow, reptilian eyes looking at him suspiciously.

"Raven!" an adult's voice admonished, a hint of exasperation in the tone, "That isn't how we answer the door!"

Raven paused to glare at Erik once more with suspicion before she turned and retreated back into the room. Erik barely even had time to realise that someone had just drastically changed colour before his eyes, before the door was pulled open to reveal the tall figure of who Erik presumed to be the teacher, and his chance for escape had eluded him.

"Ah," the teacher hummed as she looked down at Erik with a kind face. He simply scowled up at her, lamenting the fact that now he had no choice but to go into the room and deal with the fact that he was in New York instead of in Germany as he should be. "You must be the new student," she said with a smile, "Erik, right?"

"Yes," Erik grunted.

"Pleasure to meet you Erik, I'm Miss Harlow. Don't be shy now, I'm sure the other kids are looking forward to meeting you."

_I highly doubt that_ , Erik thought sourly as Miss Harlow stepped aside and ushered Erik in the room. The door closed with an ominous, clear, _click_ , and Erik had to struggle to not audibly sigh.

"The other teachers tell me you didn't show any reason to be in here before yesterday, is that correct?"

Surveying the room with inevitable curiosity, Erik simply nodded at the teacher as she prattled away, asking him inane questions like _Did you bring along your books? Did you remember to tell your mother about the change of class? Mr Clarke tells me that your favourite classes were Maths and Science, is that right?_

Erik watched with vague interest as Raven sat on a multi-coloured matt, her face screwed up with concentration as she attempted to change her skin tone to suit the matt beneath her. There was an older looking boy curled up in the corner of the room with a book in hand, his bright-red skin clashing horribly with the mustard yellow of the chair. Erik didn't even notice he had a tail until he used it to turn the page. By the toy shelves, there were two smaller boys wrestling over some toy or another. One boy hurriedly clasped his hands over his ears when the other let loose a shrill noise that made Erik flinch.

"As you can see, things are slightly more hectic in here than you might be used to," Miss Harlow said to Erik, the corners of her mouth twitching. With frustration or bemusement, Erik couldn't tell. "And with that, sit wherever you'd like Erik. We'll begin maths shortly, I think –" Suddenly the young teacher stopped talking in a soft voice to Erik and suddenly yelled out "Sean! Give Alex that bear right now! We _don't_ want another accident like last week!"

Erik made his way through the desks uncertainly as the two wrestling boys suddenly stopped and the one with dark brown hair pouted profusely before relinquishing the stuffed bear that he'd been trying to claim. The Sandy-haired one grinned widely before pointedly saying "Ha-Ha!", which simply made the darker haired boy open his mouth and begin to wail in that high-pitched keening noise again, forcing Erik to wince. He certainly hoped he wasn't that irritating at that age.

Sighing softly to himself as he threw his bag atop one of the desks not already taken, Erik busied himself with pulling out his books and arranging his desk. As he pulled out his pencil case, he couldn't help but wonder how Miss Harlow was going to be able to teach them, considering there were students from all ages in the room.

A quick glance around made Erik believe that the red-tailed boy was the eldest, while the boys that had been fighting over the toy might be the youngest.

Erik was pulled from his musing as a tentative, but sure, voice spoke to him though. Already annoyed about the change in routine, Erik turned his head to glare at the speaker, but found himself momentarily stunned by the big, bright blue eyes that met his, before realising that the words the boy spoke to him should have surprised him more than his eye colour.

"Guten Tag," the blue eyed boy repeated, his eyebrows pulling together with uncertainty. "Was that correct? Guten Tag? I'm afraid I don't know German at _all_ , but that seemed to be the right thing to say."

Erik simply blinked at the boy slowly, trying to decide how he should be reacting. On the one hand, he was stunned that someone was greeting him in his home-language, but it was by a boy who appeared to be five years old who then went on to say that he didn't even know German. And Erik certainly hadn't spoken to the boy yet for him to know about his accent, so how did he even know about Erik's background?

Quite suddenly, the boy smiled sheepishly at Erik, confusing him even more, "I'm sorry. Papa always tells me I shouldn't look into people's minds without their knowledge, he says it frightens them when I talk about things I shouldn't even know yet. You just think so loudly though, I couldn't help it. My name's Charles, by the way, Charles Xavier, and I'm a telepath," he finished with a proud grin that Erik couldn't help but return, albeit more uncertainly.

"Erik Lensherr," he said, and Charles' eyes lit up even more than they already were at the sound of his voice. _Oh, here we go_ , Erik sighed mentally and waited for the question – 'Why do you speak like that?' He can't count the amount of times someone has asked him and –

"I know," Charles told him with an amused smile, before frowning slightly and adding, "and I _like_ your accent. The other kids are just jealous of it, you know. It makes you interesting."

Once again, all Erik seemed to be able to do was sit there and blink with surprise at the words pouring from Charles' mouth. He didn't _sound_ like a five year old, and more to the point –

" _Telepath_ ," Charles repeated, with a slight pout this time, "It means I can read people's minds … I suppose it also means that my speech is advanced or something? Papa says it's just because I'm clever, but –"

"Charles, do you shut up?" Erik asked, completely unable to help himself. He had known the boy for a mere five minutes, and in that time Charles had spoken to him more than any of his previous class' classmates. It was unnerving.

Charles simply laughed delightedly at Erik's words, before smiling with more mischief to his grin than a five year old should. "Sometimes," he answered, and Erik fought the want to groan. He just had to choose the seat next to the class' chatterbox didn't he?

"Oh! _I'm_ not the chatterbox! You should _hear_ Alex. Hank's pretty bad when it comes to science too – Of course, he's a lot older than you or I, he's turning ten soon. And then there's Azazel-"

Erik was caught somewhere between listening to Charles' rambling with amusement, and wanting to beat his head repeatedly against his desk.

~X~

After having been in the Mutant-Class for a few weeks, Erik was mildly surprised to realise that, aside from the class being disrupted by Alex suddenly letting loose a plasma blast – Something that Charles would yell "Duck!" to seconds before it happened - or Sean screaming a little too loudly and cracking the windows, or by the diverse range in ages, it was really no different to the other class' he'd been in. They were even ushered out of the classroom for sports every Thursday afternoon, although Erik couldn't help but notice that they were kept away from the 'regular' kids.

It annoyed him that they had to be kept separate. He didn't see any reason for it – Having extra abilities didn't mean they loved to play dodgeball any less. But Erik had seen the looks the other kids gave his new classmates – They were afraid, and not sure how to react to any of them. Even with the mutants who's powers weren't obvious, the school knew they were in the "Special" class, and instantly labelled them as someone to be avoided.

"You shouldn't let it worry you so much Erik," Charles sighed softly as he fell to the grass beside Erik, apparently deciding he didn't want to play Dodgeball today.

"Can't help it," Erik replied, not even bothering to pretend to be frustrated by Charles listening in to his thoughts anymore. He'd come to realise that regardless of whether Erik wanted him to or not, Charles pointedly refuses to accept that Erik's thoughts are meant to be private. "It's stupid."

"Perhaps, but people always find it difficult to accept something that's different."

Erik simply sighed and reclined back on the grass, deciding it simply wasn't worth arguing with Charles. He had a tendency to cheat and call you out when you lied.

"I do _not_!" Charles growled in response, folding his arms and heaving his breath out in a loud huff. Erik could all too easily imagine the pout on his face too, and he failed dismally at not smiling in amusement at the younger boy's antics.

"Shut _up_ Erik!"

Erik would have apologised for being amused at Charles' expense … But he enjoyed it entirely too much to feel genuinely sorry for it, and Charles clearly knew that. Which was why, two seconds later, the wind was knocked from Erik's lungs as Charles lunged at him, repeating "Apologise! Apologise!" over and over, while Erik simply laughed harder as he fought off Charles flailing fists.

~X~

Although he still disliked New York, Erik found that he didn't hate school as much anymore. In fact, he even found that he enjoyed having discussions with Hank about Science, and he rather enjoyed Azazel's company.

Then there was Charles of course, and Erik supposed he could say Charles was the reason why going to school didn't suck so much anymore. It was Charles he spent most of his time with, after all, and he apparently spoke enough about the younger boy that his mother had said she wants to meet his new friend. It surprised Erik at first to hear Charles referred to as his friend, but as he'd thought about it that night, he supposed Charles was– It was certainly Charles he first greeted of a morning, and Charles he normally spoke to about homework if there was something he couldn't quite figure out on his own.

That didn't mean that Erik liked the rest of the school yet though. Even in his own class he still had little patience for either Sean or Alex, and the extent of his interaction with Raven was for her to glare at him for unknown reasons before she went back to whatever she was doing. And it still annoyed him to no end that the general population of the school they went to avoided him and the other kids, but he certainly didn't dread waking up of a morning anywhere near as much as he used to.

Out of the entire school though, there was one person that Erik decided he simply did not like in the slightest. Moira MacTaggert. She was the only normal student who actually associated herself with those in the Mutant class, and it made Erik's blood boil every time he saw her playing with Charles.

He supposed it was strange, because he didn't care if she played with Raven or Hank or any of the others, but the very second Moira found Charles in the playground, Erik's scowl would deepen, and he would storm off to the library to find something decent he hadn't already read.

Charles would always look at him with confusion when they came back from lunch on days he did this, sometimes earnestly asking him why he didn't like Moira.

"She's really interesting! And she doesn't care that we're mutants at all! _I_ like her," Charles would say, his eyes wide and confused, his mouth pulled into a frown so deep Erik wanted to tug the corners up. Instead, he would make a point to ignore Charles for the rest of the day when he was foolish enough to say this.

By the end of the day though, Charles' eyes would be brimming with unshed tears and Erik would cave and pull Charles into a hug, the younger boy's head instantly ramming itself into Erik's chest as he ground out things like "Stupid Erik! Can't understand you at _all_. Thought you were mad at me! Don't do that again! I hate it when you don't talk to me! Can't even read your mind when you're like that!"

What Charles never seemed to realise was that it was normally just as Moira was within eyeshot that Erik would pull Charles to him, glaring at Moira as though she were trying to steal his prized coin collection.

The human would leave Charles alone for a few days after that, and Erik knew that if Charles ever caught him he'd be in trouble, but it gave him a few days where he didn't have to worry about someone stealing Charles away at least.

~X~

One thing Erik rather enjoyed was the walk home from school. Initially, it was simply because it meant he was finally going home and would soon be able to immerse himself in doing things he enjoyed - like practising his powers, or leafing through his science book.

He found another reason to enjoy the walk home from school though in the winter. Even though he'd been in the Mutant class for a good couple of months now, Erik had never taken the time to notice how his classmates went home. He was normally too busy thinking about what he was going to do when he got home to pay attention to what was going on around him, too busy wondering what Mama was going to be doing for dinner that night.

When Erik actually focused on the people walking around him for a change though, he instantly kicked himself for not paying more attention earlier. There, not three people in front of him, was the small form of Charles, walking home alone, and Erik couldn't help but frown at that.

It was fine for _him_ to walk home alone, _he_ was a big-boy. But Charles … He was small, so much so that even Sean and Alex were a little taller than him, though he was a year older than those two.

Biting his lip, Erik watched as Charles turned the corner, trying to make a decision. If he was home late, his Mama would surely scold him … But, as Erik came to the street Charles had turned down and realised he was walking completely alone down the snow-covered street, Erik didn't hesitate to run towards the younger boy, skidding a little in the snow as he called his name so he'd wait.

"Erik!" Charles said, his lips pulling into an overjoyed smile as he realised who was calling him. "What are you doing here? I didn't realise you lived this way."

"I don't, I live that way," Erik replied, pointing in the direction of his house, "But … Uh. That is…" Erik fumbled for words, unsure of what he was trying to say.

Charles simply cocked his head to the side, listening to the thoughts or feelings Erik couldn't articulate, before smiling softly at him, "I appreciate the thought Erik, but I'm perfectly fine walking home by myself."

Erik didn't bother saying anything to that, he simply stood next to Charles, waiting for him to continue walking. He didn't care if Charles thought he was fine walking alone, Erik just didn't feel it was _right_ that he was walking by himself.

After a moment, Charles sighed and rolled his eyes before starting to walk again, Erik keeping pace beside him. They walked on in companionable silence for five houses, before Charles said softly, "Actually, I don't normally walk home, so it was a touch unnerving,"

For a moment, Erik was going to scoff and say something snarky about Charles' lack of height making him an easy target, but then he was distracted by the way Charles' hands were holding onto the straps of his bags. His bare hands, and it had been snowing for the last hour. Erik's mouth instantly pulled into a frown.

"Where are your mittens Charles?" the question fell from his lips before he even had a chance to realise what he was about to ask.

Charles instantly looked over at him like a child who'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but then his blue eyes iced over with mild defiance. "At home," he said simply, his eyes narrowed as he continued to look at Erik, "And while I appreciate the concern, you're not my mother Erik."

For a moment, Erik was taken aback by Charles' response, it was rare for Charles to be so … Cold to anyone, and Erik briefly wondered about Charles' home life. Erik knew that he was close to his father, but as he thought about it … He didn't hear him talk about his mother much. Erik's eyebrows knitted together with concern.

"Please don't – Don't worry Erik. It's nothing, truly," Charles sighed, and it didn't escape Erik's attention that Charles was still frowning, that there was something lingering behind his eyes, but decided it better not to ask.

Instead he tugged his mittens off his own hands and silently set about pulling them onto Charles', ignoring his startled "Erik, what -?" He barely even managed to get one partially on before Charles starting protesting.

"No. No! Absolutely not! Your hands will get cold if you do that!" Charles objected, trying to pull his hand free of Erik's grip and out of the mitten, his eyebrows furrowing together and creating a crease between in his irritation.

Erik simply sighed and was inclined to tell Charles to stop being so difficult, but the icy fire in his eyes made him think better of it. Instead, he said, "Fine. I'll wear one, and you wear the other."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Charles muttered, though he stopped resisting and allowed Erik to pull the mitten up on his hand – Though it was obviously too big for him. "Now we're both going to have a cold hand."

Without even thinking about it, Erik took hold of Charles' still bare hand with his own equally bare hand, and raised an eyebrow at the smaller boy, silently asking if he had any more objections.

Charles shook his head, though the crease was still there on his brow and he was still pouting slightly as they continued to walk along the street.

From that day on, even when it wasn't winter and Charles stopped leaving his mittens at home, Erik walked him home, their hands still clasped as if they still needed the warmth.

~X~

The day after Erik's eighth birthday was decidedly the worst day of his life. It was even worse than moving to America, and that had been pretty high on the mantle of "Days that sucked".

The day after Erik's eighth birthday, Erik had actually been called out of class. The only other time that had happened had been the day Erik discovered his powers, and so he looked at Charles curiously to see if he could glean some idea about what it might be about.

He was slightly startled when he realised that Charles' mouth was slack with shock and he was trying his hardest not to meet Erik's eye, his eyes looking suspiciously watery. That was the first sign that whatever he was being called into the principal's office for was _not_ good news.

Never had he imagined exactly how bad that news was though.

"We – We're so sorry Mr. Lensherr but … The doctors say that there was nothing that could be done and -," Erik tuned it all out. Erik hardly even realised that Miss Harlow's hand was on his shoulder as though trying to offer some semblance of comfort to him.

The walk home that day he spent alone, having been sent home directly after the meeting with the principal, and Erik's feet had dragged the whole way, his greenish grey eyes darting all over the street trying to tell himself to wake up, because surely this was just a bad dream.

Still, when he came close to the apartment that was home and he saw the flashing lights, Erik's feet suddenly took off beneath him and he was running. Running towards those flashing lights, his mind still refusing to accept what they told him.

It wasn't until he pushed open the apartment door that wasn't locked and Erik saw the amount of police and officials that were standing around, taking photo's that Erik realised it was no lie. His mother had been murdered.

He lost track of the next few hours – He slipped into a coma of sorts, his consciousness taking a life of its own. Some distant part of his mind remembered the police having to leave in a hurry because the cutlery had started flying around the apartment with a life of it's own, their guns pulled out of their holsters to join the sweeping, angry cloud of metal that was swirling around his body like a shield. Vaguely recalled them saying "We need someone to calm him down, but who?" and not caring - he was too busy screaming himself hoarse with his cries of heartache and anger. The neighbours had to leave, unable to stay in their apartments listening to the guttural sounds pulling themselves out of the child's throat, and equally unsettled by the fact that everything metal within the building was rattling angrily. He didn't even want to listen to the soothing voice in his mind that was murmuring ' _Erik, Erik, you need to calm down. Erik, you need to calm your mind_ '

It wasn't until the sky had turned dark, and his sobs had long ago faded into the occasional hiccups that Erik realised he could _feel_ Charles inside his mind, that it felt as though he were enveloped in someone's warm embrace, even though he was most definitely alone in the apartment.

Around the same time, Erik realised that he was acutely aware of each and every piece of metal within the room, as if it were also trying to find a way to comfort him.

_I'm sorry Erik. I am so, so sorry_ , the voice of Charles was whispering, and Erik allowed the sound of it, and the warmth of Charles being there, in his mind, to lull him into an uneasy sleep.

The very next morning, Erik was shipped off to an Orphanage in Brooklyn, and he wasn't even given a chance to say goodbye to Charles, or the few friends he'd made. He was barely even given enough time to collect his belongings and say goodbye to the only place in this country that held memories of his mama.

In that moment, Erik wasn't sure who he hated more – The bastard who stole his mother from him, or the unfeeling police who simply saw him as another mutant child undeserving of any pity, despite the traumatic experience he'd just experienced.

As the police car pulled away from the apartment block, Erik thought he caught a flash of a small someone running towards the car, yelling out "Stop. Stop! Wait!", but then Erik had buried his head into the single duffel bag that now held his entire life, trying to fight off more tears.


	2. Oxford life proves to be interesting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou to everyone for the Kudos and comments!  
> I'm pleased to see you've enjoyed the start of the story. Hopefully, that feeling will continue throughout the rest of it <33

The next several years of Erik's life were, for lack of a better term, unremarkable. He was never adopted into a new family, and spent his years growing up in the Orphanage he'd been unceremoniously dumped at. He persevered with his education and majored in Electrical Theory – Something his teacher said he excelled at – As well as metal work, something he, admittedly, cheated in quite a lot considering his mutation. He enjoyed it all the same though, so he didn't care if he got filthy looks from his peers when he made use of his powers.

At the age of Sixteen, Erik moved out of the orphanage and found a shabby, one bedroom apartment, and he started working part time at a questionable mechanic's to simply support himself. It was around that time that Erik's life took a decidedly darker turn.

There were a mere two other mutants at the high school Erik went to – Emma Frost, and Sebastian Shaw, and they were nothing like the Mutants that Erik remembered from back in New York. Erik might only have a vague impression of his time in New York now, buried under other memories and time as those days were, but the impression he had was of warmth and trying to co-habituate with the human population of the school. With Shaw and Frost, it was completely different. _They_ ruled the school, and the human's weren't simply wary of them because they 'didn't understand' – The Human's were actually _afraid_ of Frost and Shaw.

Erik had been hesitant to follow in their footsteps - he had a distinct impression that someone from his past with alarmingly blue eyes would surely be disappointed if he let himself walk that path, but Erik couldn't for the life of him remember if that impression was of an actual person, or just a figment of his childhood. 

In the end, he allowed himself to be swept up in it all – allowed himself to develop a cold exterior that no one could break through. Allowed himself to become a predator, someone who was viewed as dangerous. He became someone who was volatile, who went out and got into drunken fights of a weekend. He, in essence, became Shaw's bodyguard – Not that Shaw needed one, he was dangerous in his own right, but Erik was given the role regardless.

And with time, Erik remembered less and less of the blue eyed boy from his childhood. His mind eventually stopped reminding him that 'he' would surely be disappointed if he could see him now – Erik stopped caring what this phantom from his past thought and allowed Shaw to make use of him, allowed him to help fine tune his powers to the point that Erik was quite possibly feared more than Shaw himself by the time he reached his Senior year.

Then, before long, it came time to apply for College's and although Erik hadn't given it any prior thought, considering Exams were in a week's time, his Electrical Theory Teacher pulled him aside after one lesson.

"Erik, you could have a future in this field, you and I both know you're a natural at it. Your course work has been brilliant." He paused, and then continued on in a rush, "Erik, I want you to consider applying for Oxford University. They provide the best course in Electrical Theory, and I'm sure anything else that you could possibly want."

"Oxford?" Erik repeated, sure he'd misunderstood the teacher. The balding man simply nodded. "That's in England."

"I know, I know. But … Well, consider it, won't you? I've already recommended you for a scholarship, and the professors were rather impressed with your work, so I'm fairly sure it's safe to say the option's there if you want it. They'd pay for you to fly over, and you'd have an on-campus dorm. You'd even get an allowance as long as you can maintain a respectable level of work and-"

"I'll do it," Erik cut across the teacher's rambling.

"Er- Well, there's no need to decide right now. You can think it through and make sure it's what you want…" The teacher silenced himself at Erik's quelling glare.

"I said I would do it," he repeated, silently thinking that it was a good opportunity to cut ties with Shaw and Frost. He'd run out of patience with them, and was tired of Shaw's attempts at trying to control him. No longer was he the easily moulded, impressionable freshman.

Less than 24 hours after his Exams finished, Erik had packed his life into a single suitcase, thrown out whatever he couldn't fit in that suitcase, and was sitting on a plane, making his way to England where a representative from Oxford University would meet him and escort him to the dorms.

How could he have known that what seemed like pure luck was in fact fate's way of setting him back on track for what she had planned for him?

~X~

Even before he set foot on campus, Erik felt ... Strange. It was like leaving the house and suspecting you'd left the oven on. There was some tickling feeling in the back of his mind that reminded him of something, something he couldn't put his finger on. And then, out of the blue, he had a memory – Or, he presumed it was a memory – of someone saying ' _Oh, you don't remember. That's anticlimactic_ ,' in a voice that was achingly familiar, and then the feeling was completely gone.

Erik paid it little mind though, he was slightly more concerned with finding what dorm he was going to be living in for the next three years, at least, and whether his room mate was going to be tolerable at least.

He came to a stop in front of the room number scribbled onto the sheet of paper that irritating escort had given him – He'd been a _hummer_ , so Erik had told him to just give him the map and leave his sight, or else he'd be one testicle less. Suffice to say the escort had paled considerably, thrown he paper work at Erik and all but scarpered away – and regarded the door with trepidation.

Generally speaking, he did _not_ get along with people well, and it was even worse if they were human. No matter how much he tried to stress it would be more beneficial for his future _roommate_ that Erik be given his own room, the receptionist informed him that they were aware of his "special circumstances" and that a suitable arrangement was already in place. Erik was certain that his idea of a suitable arrangement, and the receptionist's would be completely different.

Fixing his fiercest scowl on his face so that his roommate would know not to even bother, Erik opened the door – rolling his eyes to himself at how simple locks were to manoeuvre – and stopped abruptly as he realised his roommate was in fact a man with the appearance of a hell-demon, complete with the thrashing tail.

The sight of the red skin brought something to mind, something elusive and he knew, he _knew_ that he knew this person – How many mutants did you meet with fire-red skin and a tail – But Erik simply couldn't place it. It was like trying to chase down the fragments of a fading dream.

"Hmm. It would appear he was right then. Pity," the red-mutant sighed, his golden gaze fixed on Erik as he stood there, hands stuffed into pockets as he wracked his brain for where he knew this mutant from. He didn't meet him through Shaw, of that he was certain, but then … Before? Erik couldn't recall. He'd made a point to forget the days with his mother.

And there was that feeling in the back of his mind again, a tickling like someone was sitting there with his consciousness, but the only Telepath that he'd known of was Emma, and she had a tendency to barge her way into Erik's mind when she saw fit, not flutter about unobtrusively. There was no way her power could stretch over continents, was there?

Belatedly, Erik realised he was still standing in the doorway staring curiously at the other mutant, so he made a point to walk in with his head held high, make it clear that he was not to be intimidated. He didn't care if this red-Mutant was older than he was, Erik was no push-over.

The Hell demon's lips twitched once before he rolled his eyes, "You honestly haven't changed," he muttered, and Erik arched his eyebrow curiously. So it wasn't his imagination then, this mutant _did_ know him.

"Forgive me. My name is Azazel, and you can take whichever bunk you want – I'm hardly here enough to care."

Erik's eyes narrowed slightly at the name, a brief, hazy image of a teleporting mutant coming to mind. An image that was closely followed by a bell-like laughter he felt like he _should_ remember.

"I know you," Erik said slowly, cautiously, watching Azazel as he threw his bag up onto the lower bunk.

"Indeed, but it was a long time ago, I'm not surprised you don't remember me. _Him_ however -" and Erik watched as Azazel cut himself off abruptly, looking up at the roof as though he were deep in thought, and then he muttered, "Fool," under his breath. Had Erik not spent years in close proximity with a telepath, he might have thought that was directed at him, but he was able to recognise when a comment was meant for someone else.

"There are more than just us two here, aren't there?" Erik asked, though he knew the answer already, and was intrigued by the thought, intrigued by the idea of mutants not under Shaw's control. Though, he was also slightly uneasy at the idea of another telepath. It had never been pleasant having Emma know his every thought, whim and secret.

Azazel sighed heavily before saying, "Yes, and I'm sure you'll meet them before long. Forgive me, Lensherr, but I have other business to attend to. Make yourself at home – I wasn't joking when I said that I'm hardly ever here," and with one last nod at Erik, the demon dissipated into a sulphuric wisp, and the smell brought back memories of dodgeball and yelling about not cheating by teleporting all over the place.

Erik waited until the smell of Sulphur dissipated completely before pinching his nose between his thumb and finger. Talk about a blast from the past. As he began unpacking, Erik realised he probably should have asked what Azazel was doing in England anyway. Besides the obvious that is.

Until he remembered that he didn't really care what Azazel was doing in England – He hadn't even remembered he knew him until ten seconds ago. And so, with a shrug Erik pulled out his schedule and started memorising where his classes were and how to get there, if only so he could avoid having to ask someone.

~X~

Erik settled into life at Oxford easily enough. It was strange to be staying on campus at first, but he decided that it was more convenient this way. He didn't have to borrow books from the library all the time, and he could stay in the Campus' library as late as he wanted, which actually made him happier than he would ever admit aloud.

One of his favourite times quickly became that point in the night when there were only a handful of students left in the extensive library and he could roam through the shelves without needing to be bothered about others loitering at his shoulders, shifting as if trying to peer around and see all books available, or which one he had in hand. It was annoying, and Erik often wanted nothing more than to pick them up by the zips in their jackets, or jeans or their watches and unceremoniously toss them to the other side of the Library. He came very close to doing so on several occasions, but as soon as Erik turned his glare on those foolish enough to bother him, they seemed to realise who they were annoying and they hurriedly found somewhere else to look.

Azazel, true to his word, was hardly ever in their shared room, and so Erik had practically taken it over with several stacks of Electronic books, or books about magnetic theory, not to mention the various amounts of metal that was scattered about the room. Erik simply felt more secure having metal on hand – One thing spending time with Shaw had taught him was to be cautious, no matter the environment you're in, which is precisely why Erik always had at least one coin in his pocket as he was walking around. Even the bathroom had several screws and coins lying on the basin.

The only thing that bothered him about life at Oxford was the feeling that he was not the only one in his head. It wasn't often that Erik would feel that fluttering presence at the back of his mind, but it frustrated him whenever he did. Although it was a light presence, and not intrusive in the slightest, it still annoyed Erik that a telepath would just invite themselves into his mind as if they knew him and had a right to be there, and it was highly distracting to realise you weren't alone in your mind, especially when you were trying to memorise complicated equations and formulas. More than once Erik had none too gently told whoever it was to kindly fuck _off_ , and he was never sure whether he should be amused, or offended that the presence would swell with surprise each and every time they were caught, before flaring indignantly and finally fading away, resentment evident in the lingering traces of them.

More annoying than the telepath inviting themselves into Erik's mind though, was the bewildering warmth and familiarity that would initially spread through him at the feel of their presence. It frustrated him because a stranger was trying to sneak into his mind, and so his mind had no business relaxing at the feeling of their consciousness' meeting, as if he were greeting a friend after a long trip. It was just startling that his consciousness would so readily accept another's presence considering how cautious he was in daily life.

.

Another thing that Azazel had been correct about, was the fact that Erik would surely meet the other mutants that were there at Oxford. The first was possibly the one that startled him most, however.

Erik had been quite contentedly reading through Dracula, when he suddenly felt that he wasn't alone – Not in the same way he'd been dealing with for weeks now, but in the physical sense. Reaching with his powers for the coin in his pocket, Erik looked up with a glare on his face. The glare faltered slightly and turned to a frown of bewilderment, however, as he was met by his own face staring at him, his lips pulled into a bemused smile that simply didn't suit him.

"I always thought we'd meet again," Erik's own voice told him, and he arched an eyebrow sceptically at the uncanny impostor.

"Did you now?" he asked, pulling the coin out of his pocket with barely discernable movements of his fingers.

And then his doppelganger's eyes shimmered and turned into memorable reptilian yellow, and Erik fought down the want to groan. Sitting before him was one mutant he had never been able to forget, her power simply too fascinating.

"Raven," he acknowledged, and the obscene way his lips stretched into a pleased smile didn't suit his face at _all_ , Erik decided, before his faux-self blurred slightly and a woman with shoulder length blonde hair and light blue eyes looked at him. Erik simply frowned at her, " _That_ is not the real Raven," he stated, disdain barely concealed in his tone. Was she ashamed of her true form? How ridiculous. They were the future, and she was hiding behind a mask?

The woman before him met his gaze balefully before allowing herself to shift into her azure self. It didn't escape Erik's attention that she flinched at the gasps of horror as she did so, and it annoyed him that she did so, because it was his firm opinion that she looked better in her natural form. She should be proud of the fact that she was different, proud of who she was.

"You're beautiful," Erik commented, taking care to keep any possible inflection out of his tone, "You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are," and he was rewarded with a winning smile for his words.

"You've become the charmer, Lensherr," Raven said, cocking her head to the side as she looked over at him, "Is that how you greet _all_ the women you meet? Or just those from your past?"

Erik simply snorted derisively, fixed his gaze back on his book, and retorted, "Don't misunderstand, it was an objective observation."

To his surprise, Raven actually laughed at his words, and Erik felt distinctly uncomfortable for a moment. He wasn't used to people laughing _at_ him, they normally avoided him completely. Was it because she knew him from before his time with Shaw that Raven was unaffected by his rough demeanour? Erik frowned slightly at the thought before deciding that it didn't matter. It wasn't as if he was going to start to gush about old times or let the shapeshifter behind his defences just because she wasn't scared of him.

Unexpectedly, the silence that stretched on between Raven and himself was almost … Companionable. She seemed content to watch the people as they went by, trying on their hair styles or eye colour once they were out of sight, while Erik pretended to read his book. As Erik's eyes skated unseeingly over the words of the novel though, he couldn't help but feel like something was missing. There was a vital person, someone related to Raven, that was missing. Seeing her brought back carefully buried memories of blue eyes and warm laughter, of someone he was sure had been important. Erik frowned as he thought about it, unable to recall anything outside of 'startling blue eyes'.

He put it out of his mind, however, as Raven spoke to him, asking what it was that brought him to England. For a moment, Erik missed the times when people knew not to talk to him, it usually saved him the irritation that came with small talk.

Tickling at the edge of his consciousness, he could feel the unnamed telepath's amusement, and Erik sent the presence a half-hearted _Be amused elsewhere_ , an almost smile playing with the edges of his mouth.

Meeting up with Hank had been decidedly less startling. Erik hadn't known it, but Hank was actually in his Electrical Theory lecture class, since it was an 'open' class. The other mutant hadn't even made his presence known to Erik until a few days after meeting Raven.

Erik had been distinctly irritated when somebody dared stand in his way of the chalkboard one afternoon, and that feeling simply intensified when he realised it was some timid person whose mouth was opening and closing, apparently unable to get the words out.

He was about two seconds away from snarling 'Spit it out, or fuck off' before the uncertain male said in an almost quavering voice, "Erik Lensherr, right?" and his eye twitched, actually _twitched_ at the question.

The timid classmate took a step back and bit on his lips before saying a rush, "I'm sorry, it's just that I went to school with you and Raven, and she said she'd spoken to you so I'd thought-"

"Fuck. Just, shut up," Erik ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath, and the other man's mouth had closed with an audible snap, "Who are you?"

"Hank. Hank McCoy," Erik noticed the way he was shifting from foot to foot and was decidedly frustrated by it, the name also meant absolutely nothing to him.

"Don't remember you," he said, a touch dismissively, hoping that would be enough for Hank to take the hint and leave him alone. Instead, Hank smiled ruefully and started to play with the strap of his bag.

"I didn't think you would, Azazel said you didn't remember him either," and Erik couldn't help but arch an eyebrow with interest at that.

"You're one of us then?" he asked, taking Hank in with new eyes. He still found the shifting and timidness irritating – As he had thought with Raven, if Hank was a mutant, he should be prouder – but if Hank was a mutant … Well, Erik was at least slightly less inclined to throw him to the other side of the room to move him out of the way.

So, with self control the like of which Erik wasn't sure he had, he simply sighed, and said through clenched teeth, "Wonderful as our reunion might be, can you move Hank? I'm in the middle of copying the notes down."

Hank, as Erik expected, squeaked with surprise, before hurriedly sitting down in the seat closest to him, apparently intent on catching up on old times or something equally asinine. Erik had to take a few calming breaths before he could get back to his notes – The seat Hank was sitting on would have crumpled beneath him otherwise, metal legs and all.

~X~

Almost two months in to the University term, Erik still has no idea who the Telepath is. He's tried asking the other mutants, but Hank pointedly changes the subject when Erik brings it up with him, and Azazel simply shrugs and says "You'll find out eventually." As for Raven, she simply grins mischievously and asks "You really have no clue?" as though he's being incredibly dense. As for Erik … He is getting extremely close to threatening them all with the pointy end of a very sharp metal instrument if they don't tell him soon. The fact that they're being secretive about it quite possibly unsettles Erik more than the fact that the unknown Telepath is _still_ slipping into his mind now and then, despite Erik's constant demands that they get the fuck _out_.

One night when Erik is in the library late, he feels when the telepath's presence curls around the edge of his consciousness and Erik actually lets his head fall into his hand with frustration. ' _You really can't take a hint, you know_ ', he snarls, and in some deep, forgotten part of his mind, he realises it's rather similar to someone he used to know. But who, Erik can't recall, and he hears Raven's words repeated to him _You really have no clue?_

Erik bites back a growl of frustration as focuses on his text book back again, eyes scanning to try and find where it was he was up to. After staring at the page blankly for a few minutes, the presence still weaving in and out of his consciousness almost playfully, Erik mentally sighs and shoots the presence a barbed thought of ' _If you're going to insist on being there, you should at least tell me who the fuck you are_ '

There's a sudden thump a few desks away, and Erik jerks his head around to glare at the moron who can't even hold onto his books. As he stares, Erik realises that the stranger's face is slightly panicked, his eyes staring down at the desk determinedly, tilting his head enough that his floppy, unkempt brown hair _almost_ hides the fact that his eyes are darting about, two fingers resting up against his temple as he chews at his lower lip. A lower lip that Erik can't help but notice is obscenely red. They're red enough that Erik briefly wonders if the other man wears gloss or coloured balm or something, because _surely_ that shade of red can't be natural?

Then those eyes rise and meet Erik's almost hesitantly, and Erik absolutely refuses to admit that he just drew a breath of surprise at exactly howblue those eyes are, refuses to acknowledge that they actually managed to draw such a reaction from him. A tongue darts out to wet those red lips, and Erik equally ignores the way that he watches that tongue, telling himself that he's still glaring about the noise the other student had made.

Seconds pass in which the two men simply stare at one another, one trying to seem menacing and annoyed – though, really, he's fascinated in a way he can't explain - while the other's lips tremble with unspoken words. And then another unseen student pushes their chair out with a noisy screech, and the moment is broken.

The floppy-haired man blurts, "I'm sorry," before he snatches up his bag and hurriedly leaves the room, his hand lowering from his temple as he goes.

Erik isn't entirely sure what compels him to do it, maybe he's horrified about that horrendous sweater the other man is wearing, but he watches the other man's retreating figure as it practically darts away. As the blue eyed man gets to the door, Erik can see him half turn his head to look over his shoulder, before he shakes his head as though telling himself not to do something.

When Erik looks back at the table the other man had just vacated, he can see that a Genetics textbook is sitting there. Normally, Erik couldn't give a fuck if other students leave their books behind – it's their own fault, he thinks. So, he can't explain why this time he finds himself rising from his table and plucking the lost Genetics book up.

Thumbing through the book, he cringes slightly when he realises that blue-eyes is one of those people that highlight sections of his textbook. He comes to the back cover, and in the bottom corner on the inside, clearly printed, he can read _Property of Charles Xavier. Please return to room 404 if found_ , and Erik manages to stabilise himself with a firm hand on the desk before the assault begins.

_My names Charles, by the way. Charles Xavier – I like everyone in class though Erik! They're all nice and everyone has lovely minds … Oh, fine. If I absolutely must choose, I'd like you best – But that's stupid Erik! I can't play with you alone! The others will think I don't like them – I hate it when you do that Erik! I hate it when I can't read you! – That makes absolutely no sense. Now we're both going to have a cold hand – I'm so happy that I met you Erik. We'll always be friends, right?- Erik, you must come play with me in the summer, okay? Pinky promise! – Don't you dare Erik! I'll never speak to you again if you do! – Erik, you have to calm your mind. Erik! I'm so sorry Erik. I'm so, so sorry._

His textbooks and the Genetics book are completely forgotten as Erik takes off down the hall at a sprint, completely heedless of the way that the light fixtures twine together as he passes, running as fast as his legs can carry him, his eyes wide and searching. Of course – _Of course_ there had been another Telepath he'd known, one who had absolutely refused to stop prying in his mind because he thought it was fascinating. _How_ could he have forgotten?

Erik almost trips over someone as he comes skidding around the corner at the same time they take a step out, and it takes a brief moment of Erik looking back into wide, shocked blue eyes for him to realise that it's Charles. And Erik is caught between wanting to punch his lights out for settling himself into his mind as though they hadn't been separated for more than ten years, wants to beat him senseless for not coming forward and telling Erik it was him – The fact that he hadn't remembered them hadn't stopped Raven, Hank, or Azazel. He wants to yell and snarl profanities at him for being so _stupid_.

Instead, Erik just pulls Charles tight against him, the – still – smaller man's arms automatically curling around Erik's back just like they used to when they were kids. And Erik can feel that Charles is crying, can feel the dampness in his shirt, can feel a tickle at the back of his own eyes that he refuses to acknowledge.

It doesn't stop him from growling, "You complete and utter fucking fool. I could kill you for so many things right now – and then bring you back to life and kill you all over again. How dare you - How _dare_ you," and Erik isn't entirely sure what he's mad about more - Charles' silence, or his behaving as if he still has a right to Erik's mind.

It doesn't matter which really, because even now Erik can feel Charles' consciousness reaching out to meet his, and it feels just like being welcomed home, and Charles is saying "I know, I _know_. But you didn't remember me at all, and I just didn't know what to do! I missed you so much, and you didn't even remember and I'm sorry Erik. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ so-"

Charles doesn't manage to get through his third apology before Erik has jerked back out of Charles' arms, and instead brings a fist down across his cheek. The fact that Charles can see the punch coming and simply closes his eyes, waiting, accepting it infuriates Erik and adds fuel to the fire and possibly makes him hit harder.

"The next time I tell you to get the fuck out of my mind, do it Charles! You don't just get free access anymore."

Erik refuses to allow himself to feel remorseful about the small amount of blood Charles spits out before he levels his gaze with Erik's, his expression guarded.

"I'll admit I deserved that. They all told me you'd be pissed off when you found out it was me. Let me make something perfectly clear though, Erik. I never, not once, went deep enough into your mind to see more than surface thoughts. It was only enough to actually _feel_ your mind again. You can't begin to understand how much I've missed you through these years. So, forgive me if I dared to crave that _small_ amount of contact with you after all this time."

"You could have just told me who you were," Erik pointed out, and Charles flushed slightly at the words.

"You didn't even remember me, how could I?"

With a heavy sigh, Erik felt the anger leave him and he was simply staring at Charles, trying to merge the boy in his memories, with the man that standing before him, his eyes an icy glare.

And then the glare gave way to an apologetic expression. Uncertainly, Charles raised a hand and placed it on Erik's shoulder. ' _I_ am _sorry I didn't tell you sooner_ ', the words came to him, and Erik could _feel_ sincerity in Charle's mental voice, and it was ridiculous the way he actually felt ashamed of the way he'd lashed out in his anger.

Heaving an irritated sigh, Erik ran a hand through the back of his hair before he turned around and started making his way back to the library to get his things, not even sure what he was feeling at that moment in time.

As Charles fell into step beside him though, things felt more right than they had in a long time, and Erik glanced over at his childhood friend uncertainly – Where did they go from here? Where did they stand now? And then something occurred to Erik that made him snort in amusement, Charles looking _up_ at him with an arched eyebrow

"You're still a short arse, you know," Erik told him, grinning as he realised Charles stood between his jaw and shoulders.

"Oh, shut up Erik," Charles snapped, his lips quirking into a smile of its own accord at the familiarity of the remark, his eyes sweeping over the twisted metal of the lights with something akin to pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we go much further into the story, I just want to make something clear; I am in no way familiar with Oxford, neither am I particularly sure what kind of courses they offer. So, as far as layout, lifestyle and ... Well, everything that revolves around the school is concerned, I have abused my creative license thoroughly. So, for anyone who is actually familiar with it ... Please ignore any mistakes on my part.
> 
> Other than that ... I do hope that you enjoyed the reunion. And when Charles and Erik are properly friends again .... Well, UST and fluff are sure to follow, right? =D

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. Please don't come at me with pitchforks - I actually did not want to do that to Erik. But it was necessary. An evil necessity.   
> I promise, stay with me and there will be copious amounts of fluff to follow ♥ - I was not kidding with that "Fluffy enough to put fluffy clouds to shame" tag.


End file.
